Black and Gold
by gildedyouth
Summary: Thor struggles to make Loki understand his unconditional and unconventional love and support of Loki , even after the "incident" on the top of Stark Tower…
1. Chapter 1

Wide, dark, full of secrets, his eyes were so intensely green they almost glowed in the dark; though they were standing alone on the roof of Stark's building with New York going to pieces around them, Thor could only think of how those eyes were evocative of the way he used to look at Thor when they were children, full of honesty and unspoken trust, yet laced with inexplicable sadness. Almost innocent. Yet the destruction and chaos rained down around the two still figures, the shrill screaming of women and children distant in the background, the deafening crunch of metal against metal and crack of stone and asphalt resounding in the air.

Thor desired to reach out, grab his brother by the back of his neck and pull him in with strong, steady arms, breathe his familiar scent, breach the incredibly wide chasm that had formed between them, and tell him he feels empty, so empty without his other half, his mirror image, his most loved companion, but he couldn't, not with Mjolnir weighing down his arm and the desperation of the situation suffocating him like a rope around his throat.

Then there was the sharp pain in Thor's side as Loki's hidden blade found the weak spot in his armor, and genuine tears forming in those deep forest eyes, those beautiful damned eyes, words beginning to form on those thin lips, and then Loki was gone, vanished, leaving Thor dazed and on his knees, blood dripping onto the hard concrete floor.

_And why didn't you just take the opportunity and kill him_, they asked in the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters afterwards, exasperated, and yet those eyes were all Thor remembered.

Later Thor would remember other details about Loki: his milky skin, blue-black hair, his dexterity, magic and fierce intelligence, the way they seemed perfect complements of each other.

How could he raise his hand against his own heart?

As a child, Loki has always been the dreamer, the schemer, and loved to tell elaborate stories as they lay in bed, too restless to sleep right away. Thor would laugh at him, sometimes, but more often than not Thor would find himself hushed, marveling at the way his brother's mind could conjure such beautiful images: dense forests populated with glowing faeries and nameless woodland creatures, golden cities in the skies grander than twenty of the Asgardian palaces combined, colorful oceans of mermen and their scaly counterparts. Thor would sometimes contribute stories of his own, but none of them were ever quite like the silver-tongued Loki's. Listening to his brother's soft musical voice as they huddled together under their shared covers, sometimes Thor would think he'd died and gone to Valhalla. It was during those times when the two brothers would share their dreams and confessions, secrets they would tell no one but each other.

On Thor's eighteenth birthday, Thor was named heir to Odin's throne. The whole of Asgard in their finery, was crowded outside the royal palace, screaming Thor's name, hailing their to-be-king, their new ruler, their future. There was drinking and feasting and celebrations, loud and merry, and Thor was at the center of it all, red-faced with pride and excitement, surrounded by an adoring crowd. Loki was absent throughout the entire celebration, present briefly only for the ceremony, looking on from a discreet place in the back of the room as the king and queen doted upon their first-born, and vanishing silently soon after, like he so often does.

That night after, both boys had retired to the single room they still shared since childhood, and Loki had claimed boldly, as he laid down with his back to Thor, he would rule another world, one much grander than Asgard, with people that worshipped him, one all would come to fear. Loki's voice began to tremble, with passion, or was it anger? There will be riches beyond their imagination, and adventures, and he will have beautiful maidens, ones much more beautiful than Thor would have. It was childish, this wild dream, and but Loki kept on going with mounting hysteria, adding embellishments to the already improbably grand imaginary world, until his rambling words were cut short with a sharp sob. Thor started, sitting up.

_Not like this, Loki, not like this_.

And Loki had stared at him with those pained emerald eyes, tears of frustration running down his pale cheeks, hands twisting the blankets, and his mouth set in a grim line. Thor had gathered his brother into his arms, anchoring the shaking body hard against his broad chest, trying to tell him without words how much he truly loved him, and how he would have given up anything, everything, including the fame, the throne and the whole of Asgard, for him, his little brother.

Thor knew part of the motive behind Loki's "adventures" on Midgard. It was to step out from under the shadow of his golden, shining brother, to make a name for himself. It confused Thor, Loki's boiling resentment and overwhelming bitterness, and the continual need to prove himself worthy. But, Thor wasn't the shunned prince, the unpopular second-child, the boy more quick with spells and illusions than daggers and swords. Thor would never know what it was like to go hungry for affection, and Loki had starved.

_It shouldn't have gotten this way._

"Brother," Thor whispered, sitting by himself in his small, grey Midgardian room after a contemptuous Fury had dismissed all the Avengers from the meeting.

Never in the eons in which Thor had been alive, had he felt so alone.

"Come home."

Eerie silence ensued.

"You called."

Suddenly, there he was, Loki in all his glory, horned helmet gleaming bronze in the dim light of Thor's cramped quarters, thick malachite cape fluttering about his lean, leather-clad calves.

Thor was on his feet in a fraction of a second, long legs powering him forward, and all this time, his mind willed Loki to stay real, to stay present, to not vanish and slip through his grasping fingers.

"You're not disappearing so easily this time."

And finally, Thor's hands closed upon warm cloth, and breastplate metal cool to the touch, and Loki was reaching for Thor too, leaning his helmeted head against Thor's shoulder, the two figures clasped silently in an intimate embrace.

"Surrender to me. To us."

"_Never_."

Thor's grip tightened, fingers curling around the soft locks of black hair.

"Brother, together we can end this madness. Come with me. Come home."

"It's too late, Thor. I'm past the point of rescuing, don't you know? I'm a monster to everyone, but I relish the power this gives me, the isolation. Isn't this what father wanted? Me, the fallen prince who relies on only tricks and spells to delude those around him, painted black so his true heir, his dearest warrior son, can shine all the more blindingly white?"

"_Loki_!"

The long alabaster fingers angrily pried Thor's hands away from his face and shoulders, and Loki stepped backwards, green eyes glinting maliciously in the dark.

"Don't tell me you didn't know this, Thor. Why else would father bring me, Laufey's infant son, of all people, back to Asgard? You don't think he did that out of the kindness of his heart, did you?"

"We loved you back then, and we still do now! I would do anything for you, don't you see that? Though we share no blood, you're still my brother, you're still Odin's cherished son. If only you'd repent, you can still find forgiveness, there's still good in you, I know..."

A bitter chuckle.

"Ah, love. What a child's dream that was. A dream only the golden boy can afford to have. Me, I've lived long enough in the shadows to know the truth."

"Listen to me, brother…"

"Stop… _lying_ to me, Thor!"

"No, Loki, I.."

"and they call _me_ the silver-tongued lie smith, the forger of untruths! The God of Mischief! What are _you_ in comparison? Do you not perceive the tinge of irony here, or are you too dull to see it for yourself?"

Loki's cape visibly shook, even in the dim light.

"Look at me, I'm just something else set up for you to conquer, a step for you to trod on so you can reach a higher glory. You want me to surrender? Very well."

Suddenly, Loki's hot breath was against Thor's ear, his fingers softly stroking the cascade of long blonde hair.

"Take me," Loki whispered, "use me like your father did for your own petty vain purposes. Hold me down, sully me, put me in my rightful place, rip apart this loathsome monster until I break into pieces in your hand, and you rise the victor, forever adored, God of Thunder. It is what you are born to do."

Thor pushed him then, hard, onto the floor, the budding red of frustration glowing in his cheeks. Loki didn't even bother to stand, and just lolled on the ground, laughing, each taunting peal hanging silvery and cold between them.

"Come, _brother_," Loki gasped, throwing his arms open in mock invitation, "or have you finally slaked your thirst for battle?"

Without warning, Thor sprung at him, relentless like a pouncing lion, and Loki's eyes widened in surprise as Thor's hands knocked aside his helmet and pinned down his shoulders.

Then there was the crushing kiss between them, their lips hot and eager, Loki's nails digging into Thor's biceps in blind ecstasy, red angry marks of passion appearing across their bare skin, the roughness of Thor's beard gratifyingly painful against the soft flesh of Loki's neck. The pang of lust started in Thor's lower abdomen, heat waves traversing across his tensed body to settle into his face, his hands, flushing his cheeks the color of a desert rose, as he pulled back to look at his brother, who panted heavily with his eyes still closed.

Seeing Loki like this, vulnerable, tangible, so alive and different from his usual cold, calculating self, Thor found himself being overwhelmed by the manic desire to be _in _Loki, to swallow him whole, to live in his skin and be wrapped in his existence as strongly as Thor's love for Loki is burned into his consciousness.

A deep, guttural growl started in Thor's throat, a deep, animalistic, predatory sound, one raw with suppressed emotion.

"Why do you deny my love, brother?"

Slowly, deliberately, Loki's eyes opened, black eyelashes fluttering like birds' wings to unveil those intoxicating green orbs.

"We were never brothers, Thor."

Thor silenced him with a second kiss.

* * *

**Author's note:**

**Hey Guys!**

**This is my first fanfiction (ever), so all feedback is appreciated! What do you guys think?**

**Thank you so much for reading! :**)


	2. Chapter 2

When they broke breathlessly apart, Loki's expression was indecipherable, even though Thor was mere inches from his face.

"Do not."

The green god's voice was smoky and tremblingly low, his thin lips drawing back just enough to reveal the pointed white teeth glimmering softly in the dark.

"Do not speak as if the bond between us had not changed. You know just as well as I do that it had deformed into something horrendously ugly years ago when you intentionally left me to drown alone while you pursued your other… interests."

"Loki."

Thor pushed himself upright, desperation expanding uncomfortably hot and tight in his chest.

"Oh yes, Thor. I'm not referring to only Sif and Jane. Tasty bits of skirt, weren't they? I'm speaking of power and the Asgardian throne. Fear and worship from all - was that not your goal? - the whole of Asgard, and your precious Earth, groveling at your feet…"

"Believe me, had you asked, had you said the word, I would have given them all for you," Thor hesitated, knowing the water into which he was treading was very dangerous indeed, "Everything. I would do it."

Another pause.

"Even now."

The silence and darkness of the room hung between the two stone still figures like a weighted curtain both were afraid to draw aside.

"Very well, brother."

There was a flurry of leather and heavy cloth as Loki stood, smoothly replacing the fallen helmet on his head and conjuring his staff. In the soft moonlight, the regality in his stance and appearance were undeniable, all traces of his youthful timidity and familiar delicacy gone.

"I will have you prove your valiant words to me. Kneel, as I had been forced to do so before you so many times, publically. I want you to feel the humiliation of the subjugation I had to endure. The… the… inadequacy… the.. "

"Loki."

"DO IT!"

The sudden yell and metallic clang of Loki's thrown weapon against the far wall reverberated in the dusky room. Loki was panting hard and fast, eyes fixated upon the floor, hand still poised in mid-air.

Thor dropped to his knees.

Angry footsteps drew nearer, nearer, and Thor felt his hair jerked back so violently he felt a burn race down the sides of his neck. The strain forced his mouth open, and he squeezed his eyes shut. He knew what was coming. Shameful anticipation began to throb between his legs.

"I _will_ dominate you, Thor."

Loki's voice shook but his unforgiving hand never left its place wound tightly in the long blond strands; Thor could not see his brother's movements but the clink of metal was unmistakable. He heard fabric falling in a liquid heap to the floor. Thor found he could not swallow the accumulating saliva under his tongue.

Two more footsteps.

Warmth slammed itself along the underside of Thor's right jaw. Again, against his cheek, and finally into his overflowing mouth. Thor's eyes watered with panic. He couldn't breathe, pressed up so roughly against the heat of Loki's lean abdomen, the unexpected length completely obstructing his mouth cavity, cutting off all air. He scrabbled at the strong thighs on either sides of his neck, pushing back, but a strange force pinned them back down to his sides, and Thor flexed desperately against them, but it wasn't enough to break what must have been magic. Thor was stunned with disbelief and overwhelmed with an unfamiliar sense of helplessness.

Then his brother was thrusting, hard against the back of his throat. The dry retches shook Thor's entire body and he could feel the cold sweat beading around his forehead and between his shoulder blades. Loki threw his head back in ecstasy, oblivious of Thor's frantic squirming, growling with a feral ferocity. Thor was choking audibly, reflexive tears of distress running down both sides of his cheeks and dripping into his beard along with the fluids brimming from his mouth. Thor found that his groin, too, was leaking, straining against the thin fabric of his pants. The exposed skin of Loki's thighs, the hard panting, the fire of the friction in his mouth, his own futile struggling… it was too much, too much. Thor's moan stuck in his throat; the result was the strangled noise of a wounded animal. Loki sped up, as if in response, breath coming fast and strained.

"Mew… ling qwim…"

The words were low and gasping.

A second hand entwined itself around the back of Thor's head. The thrusts intensified now, the velocity and violence unrelenting.

Then, Loki's seed spilled over in his mouth, and Thor's head and arms were released without warning. The sudden momentum brought him onto all fours, spluttering for air, nostrils stretched wide, face and throat aflame. His mouth dripped obscenely, forming small murky pools of silver-white on the floor as coughs wracked his entire body.

Two cool, pale hands snaked down and cupped Thor's drenched chin, surprisingly gentle. Thor lifted his head slowly, and Loki leaned in now, eyes closed. When they met, Loki tasted sweet and soft through the saltiness of the semen. Thor opened his mouth and Loki licked at his lips like a cat.

Anger reared in Thor's heaving chest. How dare the little devil show such tenderness after such… such… actions? Thor abruptly turned his head to the side. Loki froze as he watched the God of Thunder wipe the wetness away from his face with the back of his arm, then straightened and snapped his fingers. The green and black cloth wound themselves back around Loki's body and the buckles of his bronze armor snapped in place.

"Forgive me, brother."

Thor stared mutely at the standing figure.

A blink.

A brief flash of light.

And then he was gone.

Thor laid in his large bed, cleansed by the hot shower but still feeling inexplicably sullied, comforters tangled around his long legs from the tossing and turning, staring at the ceiling. He thought ofthe previous scene but focused mainly Loki's eyes, the way they had looked as the two brothers stared at each other across the room - green and wild and dripping with unmistakable hurt.

Why all the conflicting emotions within such a short span of time? _He_ was the perpetrator of this… of everything. What right had he to feel wronged?

He flung his arm over his eyes in frustration and tried to calm his quickened breathing. It was no good. He could still smell Loki on him, taste him in his mouth. Loki swam before his eyes. "Brother," the image said, but it wasn't smiling.

Thor felt a weight on his chest.

It wasn't metaphorical. He lifted his head hastily despite the lingering pain in his neck, blood draining with dread.

It was Loki. He wasn't wearing his armor anymore, but some robe of soft gray material, and his loose black locks fanned out onto Thor's shoulder. Loki's long fingers were clutching the fabric of Thor's shirt. Thor had forgotten how silently his brother was able to move. He must have magicked himself back here.

_Why?_

Thor wanted to sit up, question Loki, but hadn't the heart to. Not now, with Loki finally back, curled up light and warm against his chest like he so often did when they were children. Despite what had transpired earlier, Thor felt eerily calmed by the familiarity. Instead of another confrontation, they lay there, breathing quietly, no one saying a single word.

In the morning. They would figure it out in the morning.

Thor rested his hand protectively on Loki's shoulders and replaced his head back on the pillow.

Yes. In the morning.


End file.
